Dashie
by Fozilla
Summary: generally inspired by My Little Dashie, the touching story by Rob Cakeron. Decided to slightly turn this into a bit thriller and grimdark. The Pony Killer is on the loose! How will this change the story? I'm a new writer btw. :D
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Wakey wakey sleepyhead!" as a something hard smacked into my head.

_This can't be real._

"I said…WAKE UP!" and almost instantaneously cold water came splashing onto my face.

_I…I won't open my eyes..this is all a dream! Merely a nightmare!_

"YOU WANT TO DO THIS THE HARD WAY? FINE!" he yelled and pulled a lever, causing electricity to surge through my brain, arms, torso and legs. The pain was unbearable.

I let out a shriek of pain and opened my eyes. Darkness laid out in front of me. And then his voice came again.

"Finally. I thought you were dead. Well, if you were that wouldn't be fun now, would it!"

"Now, now Alex. Why the sad face? After all, your so called 'daughter' is here with you!"

_No. No. Dear God please don't be true. Not-_

"Rainbow Dash!" he melancholied. " Say hello to your 'dad'!"

And immediately all the lights in the room turned on. I could see everything clearly now, the blood, the torture devices, the mad glee on the professor's face. And then I saw her rainbow mane.

Dashie. My little filly.

She was strapped to a metal table, her four hooves bounded back by leather straps. She was bruised and bleeding slightly, but she was a strong mare. The poor pony looked up directly into my eyes, and gave a weak reply :"D-d-dad.." And my soul shattered into a million pieces. I was lost for words, my mind was hazy. I felt the bile in my stomach slowly rising up.

"YOU SICK BASTARD!" I spitted out. "LET HER GO!"

"Why no no no no no NO! That's not part of my game plan at all! You see, I _ALWAYS_, and never fail to kill the human and the pony… It makes everything…more _fun._ Seeing each other suffer from the torture, that's what makes me happy!" and then he pulled the lever again.

I braced for the electrocution, but nothing came.

Instead, I saw Dashie struggling in front of me, in pain, as kilovolts seared through her. She let out a pitiful cry, and my world crumbled around me.

"STOP IT! KILL ME INSTEAD! JUST DON'T HURT HER!"

"Mhmm, daddy sacrificing himself for you Dashie! Very well then, I would start with you. But be warned, do not expect a quick death, I often like my _mutilations __SLOW __and __MESSY.__"_ And a devilish grin etched upon his face.

The professor snapped on his surgical gloves, and swiftly, with Rainbow Dash looking while crying, he raised his scalpel and stabbed me in the left shoulder.

"AUGHHHHHH!"

Blood soaked my shirt as it came gushing out from the wound. He twisted the scalpel, driving it further into my shoulder, causing me to flinch.

"D-d-dad!"

A wide grin appeared on his face, showing the yellowish teeth hidden in his mouth. He slowly dragged the scalpel downwards, tearing skin and muscles alike. Pain seared through my body, and a shriek escaped my throat.

"Enough of that, man up!" he smirked. "Now time to attend to….Dashie." again his nasty smile flashed across his face. "You ought to…take a nap." And he jabbed a syringe into my other arm, injecting a transparent fluid into me. The anesthetic took over immediately, as the room around me started to spin. My vision blurred, and my senses doused.

I could barely make out what was happening. He was striding across the room, as his assistant, a disfigured colt, trotted into the room, and in its mouth gripped a portable buzzsaw. My head was throbbing, adrenaline rushed through my blood, I struggled to loosen the leather grips, but to no avail. The grips was too strong and the dose of anesthetic had further weakened me. The professor held the buzzsaw and walked towards Dashie.

The last thing I heard was the whirring start of the machine, a pitiful scream, and my world was swallowed into darkness.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Flashback

Stepping back into the same old house, the same old living room, with the paint on the wall chipping off, and the same old messy sight greeted me. Staying here for about 21 years, things rarely change.

Except when I left the house this morning, the living room was sparkling neat.

Now, books, clothes and miscellaneous stuff lay strewn across the floor.

"DASHIE!" I yelled from the bottom of the stairs. "Have you been practicing your mini Raintwirls again? The place is a mess!"

No reply.

"DASHIE! Come down this instance young mare!"

"It wasn't me! Well, at least the place looks 20% cooler, right?" she cheekily laughed from her room.

And in a minute she came flying down the stairs, her striking rainbow mane and tail flowing smoothly along with the wind. Her bright purple eyes stared at the living room, and then she looked at me.

"Well…It is kinda messy." Dashie looked up at me, and spotted my stern stare. She immediately picked up my message.

"UGH, fine then." She groaned. "I'll clean it up." She zoomed around the room, picking up stuff as she grumbled. "I wish I had a magical horn."

"Why not practice outside next time?"

"The trees in the garden are too huge! And since you don't allow me to fly around alone, I thought that the living room was spacious enough…" she broke into a laughing fit. "Sorry, dad." Dashie resumed cleaning up the mess.

As I monitored her cleaning the living room, I picked up the photo album that was lying at my foot. I flipped it open, and streams of sweet memories came flowing through. Pictures of filly Dashie made my heart melt. There were pictures of Dashie with her friends, Twilight, Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie and Fluttershy. They smiled at the camera, frozen in time.

The doorbell rang all of a sudden, startling me.

I stood up, suddenly feeling light-headed. Time revolved so slowly.

The doorbell rang once more, as it slowly changed into the sound of an alarm. Taking a deep breath, I turned the doorknob.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Waking up felt like years.

The first thing that reached my senses was the pain in my left shoulder.

And then I remembered Dashie.

The huge operation light hung above me, as I lay down, bounded to the operation table. Frantically turning my head around, I struggled to break free, to look for Dashie, to make sure she's safe…

And to kill that son of a bitch.

Quickly scanning through the room, I realized I was alone in here. The scalpel had already been removed from my arm, but still the blood was flowing, dripping off the operation table in a constant tempo. Blood was splattered against the wall, the results of previous victims that had been "experimented" on by the Professor. The operation light kept flickering, and I could make out a body bag at the far side of the room. I felt a tear run down my cheek, not from the pain, but in fear for Dashie's safety.

And then I heard her scream.

It echoed throughout the room. Yelling wasn't an option, I couldn't find my voice. I began banging my head against the operation table, in hope to attracting some attention, as I began planning out my next step. I silently prayed to God to watch over her, over poor Dashie.

The door unbolted and it swung open. A colt trotted in slowly, it's cold eyes staring at me. It was badly disfigured, and its face seemed to be sewn hastily together…from different coloured pelts. It slowly walked next to me, as I gazed at it in horror. In its hoof clutched a scalpel, with fresh blood stained on it. The colt then slowly drew its face close to mine, as I felt its breath, and then it let out a low pitched growl.

Adrenaline was pumping, and my instincts took over. I smashed my forehead into its face, not strong enough to knock it out, but just enough to daze it. I seized my chance, while up close to its face, I bit a piece of its nose, and ripped it from his face. Warm blood sprayed out as it fell to the ground, howling in pain.

The scalpel clattered onto the operation table, and what luck it was, it landed right next to my hand. I quickly struggled to grab it, the leather straps cutting and bruising my wrist. I started slicing through the leather bounds, accidentally slicing some skin off. Everything hurt so much, but I had no time to lose. I unshackled my legs and stumbled clumsily to the door, the blood loss from the stab causing my head to spin.

I felt hooves grabbing me around the ankle, and the next thing I knew the ground was rushing up to me, the scalpel falling out from my grip. The colt scrambled on top of me, grabbing me by the head and bashing it to the ground. A hoof pressed against my neck, as it began to become harder to breathe. I writhed and squirmed as life was slowly getting sucked out.

And then I felt the cold steel at my fingertips.

I grabbed the scalpel and swung it blindly in its direction. The scalpel caught the colt in the neck, and immediately its grip loosened. Blood trickled down as it struggled on the ground, forming a blood pool. Gasping for air, I pulled out the scalpel again, and rained stabs onto it. Stab after stab, the colt died gruesomely, as I put an end to its miserable life.

I almost felt sympathy for it as it slowly died, lying on the ground in a bloody mess.

Almost.


End file.
